


Avengers Plus One

by old_chatterhand



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Christmas Party, Family, Feelstide 2012, First Time Kiss, Get Together, M/M, Presents, Tony is bad at planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/old_chatterhand/pseuds/old_chatterhand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are going to have a Christmas Party, Tony decides, and will invite all their families.<br/>This ends up meaning both a lot less and a lot more people than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avengers Plus One

**Author's Note:**

> For the Feelstide prompt 102: EVERYONE'S family shows up for Christmas and there's either a lot more, or a lot less of them than expected.
> 
> I went with both. 
> 
> This has not been beta-ed, because Christmas is close and I didn't want to take up anyone's time more than necessary. All ensuing mistakes are therefore mine and I'm really sorry.

They are in the middle of the debrief to what Clint calls "the worst Ghost-Busters adaptation of all time" (they have fought a giant marshmallow-man. No, really.), when Sitwell pokes his head in - completely with Santa Claus hat, because apparently he has lost a bet - and asks Coulson for a minute.

As soon as he is out the door, everyone but Tony slumps a bit. They are exhausted, but for Coulson they normally at least try to pretend to pay attention.  
Tony though.  
Tony fights in a high tech prosthesis that does all the work for him. Which is also water and wind-proof and heated. The most discomfort he has to deal with is to try and get marshmallow out of the suit's joint.

He didn't slip and slide on the icy streets like Natasha. He also didn't bowl over like Natasha nor did he land headfirst in a heap of dirty snow like Natasha. Nobody talks or god beware makes fun of that though, because nobody wants bruised kidneys matching her bruised ego.

The others are mostly fine, if wet and cold and grumpy. which just doesn't do. It's the second advent today, after all, and Tony has An Idea.

So he claps his hands.

"Guys, I just had an inspiration -"

"Stark, no. whatever it is, we're not interested." Clint interrupts him.

"Shut up, Barton, you philistine, you have no concept of style anyway."

"I-"

"Purple."

Clint does shut up at that. Purple is his favorite color, so what, sue him, he likes it. He doesn't like to be made fun of all the time, and he's cranky already, so he let's Tony get away with it.

"Anyway, idea, it's gonna be awesome, I know it and you all will stop looking at me like the Grinch and Grumpy Cat teamed up to buy your laughter away...", he trails off and looks expectantly at Steve, who sighs.

"Two thirds. Who's the Grinch?"

"Oh my god, you do not know Dr. Seuss, this is a national disaster - wait why do you know Timm Thaler - what is wrong with whoever brings you up to speed, that is just poor assignment of priorities-"

This time Tony's high-speed chatter gets interrupted by Bruce.

"Tony, you need to stop trying to cram as many references into one sentence as possible, even we don't understand anymore. Now, what did you think of?"

Tony looks at him, opens his mouth, closes it again, opens it again and stabs a finger in Steve's direction.

"Okay, whatever, don't think we won't come back to this. I only have mercy because Bruce's puppy dog eyes are like, my kryptonite."

He pointedly ignores Bruce and Natasha fist-bumping below the table.

"I was thinking, what with the grumpiness and all, also team-building: we will have a Christmas Party this year. All of us six Avengers people, I mean we live together already anyway, don't know what I was thinking letting you in like that, there you go, I have Christmas spirit all year round. Ergo, Christmas Eve, mi living room es su living room, Assemblin' Time, no discussion."

There's a moment where no one reacts.

"Yeah, no, I'm on shift."

"What he said" Natasha points at Barton.

"I have an appointment already, sorry", Steve mumbles and doesn’t look at anyone.

"What." Tony gapes at them.

"For me, it is the first day to lay eyes on my beloved Jane again, so I would prefer another date for your feast." Thor throws in.

"Okay, Thor is excused, we do not want to get between him and Jane, at all, ever, not after last time. The rest of you... Appointment! Shift! Seriously." Tony flails a bit.

"Maybe a later date?" Bruce suggests, before the discussion can go further off the rails.Tony nods vigorously.

"Later date, yes, then... second day of Christmas it is, no complaints, you people can't be on shift forever or having appointments and that also takes into account Norse God stamina... Stop glaring at me, Murder Twins, I'm immune to your intimidation, DON'T COME CLOSER!"

He scoots back with his chair because Barton slowly leans sideways in his direction and they had that Coup d' Etat already, thanks very much.

"Anyway, second day of Christmas, don't bring presents, we don't want that particular disaster just yet. I'll have JARVIS mail you your individual invitations. Ask him to print out more if you want to bring someone, family occasion et cetera, et cetera..."

Any objections anyone might have are stopped by Coulson coming back, because they have an iron rule to not go off-topic in debriefs. Off-topic is not a place they want to go anymore, here.  
They have been there. No one wants that again. Not even for the lousy t-shirts.

***

Oddly enough, they never really get to talk about the Christmas Party again, because everyone is ridiculously busy. While they may live together technically, a floor for each person does not necessarily promote group time, either. Clint gets send on a mission as back-up, Bruce and Steve both support various charitable causes: Steve by appearing on stage and standing around meaningfully and Bruce with speeches and presentations on scientific issues. Back at the tower, he gets into heated discussions with Tony sometimes, debating back and forth the advantages and disadvantages of technological progress. Tony himself gets stuck in more business meetings than he is comfortable with (which is none at all), due to it also being the end of the year. Natasha practices Swahili and Thor sleeps a lot or wanders around the city.

The personalized invitations turn up one day, placed on their pillows in the appropriate bedrooms. As Bruce discovers, JARVIS had them printed and then delivered by Dummy. He knows this because as he walks into his room one evening, he finds Dummy has discarded the card onto the floor and is busy trying to straighten the fringes on Bruce's old afghan.

Additionally, a huge Christmas tree is delivered into Tony's living room and professional decorators crowd the place for two hours, leaving behind a tastefully arranged and impersonal chaos of ornaments and sweets and little trinkets between a ton of fir tree branches.

***

Coulson gets a lot of visitors in those last two weeks before Christmas.

Natasha comes by after one of her language classes, sits on the edge of the desk and slides over a blood-red and black invitation card. It says "Natasha Romanova and Plus One" on the one side and could just as well be the ticket to a very high class BDSM-club. The back says "Avengers and families Christmas Party" and a date and time and the address of StarkTower, though, so it's probably not. Coulson says "Thank you." and Natasha says "You're welcome." and they both smile and don't talk about it anymore.

Natasha had been injured when Clint dragged her in and Coulson and her have the same blood type. He also had no qualms about donating blood to the enemy. Since then, she claims that they are related and made him her medical proxy.

Coulson is the medical proxy of a lot of people.

 

Bruce comes over the next day and asks about setting up a small fundraiser for a NGO he encountered while in India. They do medical work and it's local and well-managed, but could certainly use the money. NGOs can always use more money and Coulson is happy to help. SHIELD itself has a no donations policy and doesn't collaborate with independent organizations, but that doesn't mean that the people in SHIELD's offices don't. At the end, Bruce fishes around in his pockets and comes up with an invitation card in green and purple, folded twice. It says "Dr. Bruce Banner and Plus One" and then there is a handwritten bit saying "and the Other Guy, +1" in Stark's messy scrawl.

"He is not really subtle, I'm afraid" Bruce says and smiles wryly.

Coulson taps the edge of the card against his desk.

"What about Dr. Ross? I thought you might want to spend Christmas with her?"

"She has moved on to safer grounds... I don't blame her." Bruce shrugs a little. "And it's difficult with her Dad still. While she doesn't agree with him, he's still her Dad and the other guy - I mean the other other guy - can provide a more stable perspective than I ever could."

He leaves shortly after that and Coulson feels a bit melancholic for the rest of the day.

 

He goes to meet Thor one day to talk to him about the arrangements they made for Jane to come over for Christmas. The god is lounging around in the living room of his floor, wearing jeans and a huge pullover with a red and white elk pattern of all things. He greets Coulson warmly and offers hot chocolate with a more than generous splash of rum. Which Coulson accepts gladly, because he may be on duty and everything, but outside the snow is piling high and the sharp and icy wind has made his face burn.

"I wish to inquire, Son of Coul, will you be joining us all to celebrate the Christmas?"

"My family is coming over this year and they will probably take up most of my time."

Which is true, even if it doesn't really answer the question.

Thor nods seriously and doesn't say anything for a while. He looks thoughtful and a bit lonely. These are some of the few moments where Coulson really feels that Thor is alien in this world and that his family is further away than anyone can really imagine. The whole Loki-business has probably not improved family-life over in Asgard either.

"A family here is different than back home." Thor says suddenly and looks back at Coulson.

"We do not have the fleetingness the people of Midgard suffer from and we are less aware of it. I think it a disadvantage. We have to treasure those we love very deeply."

His blue eyes have a rare intensity. While Thor may seem like an overexcited puppy most of the time, he is a god from long before and will still be long after them. He seems to see what he is looking for, though, and leans back again, grinning broadly.

"I shall offer you my invitation to our Christmas feast, my brother, so that you know that you have more family than related by blood."

He bounds away to fetch a piece of paper, all glossy bronze and rich dark crimson. It's another Invitation card. "Thor, the Norse God of Thunder invites you" this one says on the front instead of the usual name-plus-one. Coulson starts to sense a pattern - he just doesn't know whether it's intentional or not.

 

Stark's version - Hot Rod red and bright shiny gold, no surprises there - is pushed into his hands when he goes to get some files signed. The incredible pretentiousness and ego of the small piece of paper is saved by the oily thumbprint in the corner. Neither of the men acknowledges the transfer (Coulson will later get a mail from Pepper, inviting him again and asking about presents for his relatives. They will meet for lunch later, to hash out a menu, transport and gifts. This will also result in an invitation printed out in his office, saying: “JARVIS, DUM-E, U and Butterfingers +1 and 3 small ones”. The ornaments on this one are right-angled instead of curving and the whole thing is in black and very faint gray - on closer inspection, a pattern made out of 0s and 1s).

 

Steve's visit the day after the third advent is different in the way that he calls up beforehand and asks for the opportunity to talk. Coulson's fanboy-glee has died down a bit over time. By now, he simply genuinely likes Steve.The man enters, wearing his usual khakis and shirt underneath a thick navy-blue peacoat. And he’s got a beanie, with his blond hair poking out at the sides. He looks halfway between mariner-thug and adorable little boy. Coulson smiles at him and goes to fetch coffee and some of the rather dry office cookies.

"How can I help you today, Captain Rogers?", he asks, once they are seated.

Steve pulls of the hat and twists it in his large hands for a moment.

"I have a question about things these days. Which I would rather not ask the other Avengers."

Coulson raises his eyebrows a little. Steve has proven to have a pretty strong personality and sense of self and taken to the 21st century like a duck to water. Okay, more like a very confused and desert-born duck to a very high-tech fluid, but he has always kept himself above water with very little splashing.  
Coulson makes a "go on then" gesture and takes a sip of his coffee, in case he has to hide a smile.

"It's... I was raised as a Christian. And... believing has changed since then, I have come to realize."

Coulson puts down his cup, all focused on Steve now. It's no surprise captain America shies away from approaching that topic with his teammates: Clint and Tony laugh in the face of religion and mock it to the point of cruelty. Natasha was raised in the former Soviet union, every hint of Gods and higher powers banished from the culture, making it meaningless to her. And Thor...

"Being on a team with an actual god from Nordic mythology doesn't really help, I reckon?", Coulson asks gently.

Steve smiles and shakes his head. "Honestly, that he might possibly be a god or demi-god does not really concern me - he's just this great guy who talks funnily. But I miss the community and the rituals and all that. I went to church every Christmas eve with my mum as long as we could..."

"I'm not a believer myself and can't really help you there, Captain, but I think I know someone: You should talk to Jasper - Agent Sitwell. His church is pretty liberal and very active, I think you might like it. They are less about following the bible to the letter and more about actually doing good. I could ask him to contact you?"

"That would be great, thank you. I just... I want to go as Steve Rogers, not as Captain America."

Coulson clears his throat.

"Believe me when I say, Captain, that Agent Sitwell couldn't be happier about that if he tried. We have worked together for a long time and he has heard his share about ..., well you, as in Captain America. I think he likes plain old Steve Rogers better."

Steve grins and his relief in palpable. Great, now even Captain America thinks Coulson being a fan is funny.

"Ah!" He sits up suddenly.

"That reminds me, I have something for your collection. Although, it says Steve Rogers, but, well you know... Uhm. I mean, the invitation is genuine, I'd be happy if you could come."

He fishes out the appropriately red, white and blue card and passes it over to Coulson, who takes it a bit wearily.

"I have my family coming over this year. I'll see what can be managed. Thank you, Captain."

They chat for a bit longer about Christmas traditions new and old before Steve leaves to see Agent Sitwell. Coulson remembers the evening after Thor and the battle of Puente Antiguo, remembers coming back to the Motel room he shared with Jasper to the man sitting on the edge of the bed, the cross he always wore around his neck in his hand, asking: "What now, Phil, what now?"

 

Clint comes back from his mission two days before Christmas Eve. Coulson is just finishing up the last few things and sorting through the piles on his desk, when his office door bangs open, Clint trudges in and heavily drops down on his couch.  
It is definitely Clint's couch, and Natasha's as well, because both refused to do their paperwork, debriefs and healing anywhere else than in the office of the poor guy who brought them into SHIELD. At one point, Fury had walked in and looked around at Natasha curled up on the window ledge and Clint crouching on top of a filing cabinet, the stacks of paper from up there distributed on the carpet. Coulson had watched the director from behind his desk, feeling sheepish and protective and refused to blush. At last, Fury had turned to him, shaken his head and said: "Might as well get a couch, Cheese." And that had been that.

Today, Clint is slumped on the scratched leather and announces: "I fucking hate Christmas. And fucking snow and fucking winter."

Coulson smiles and feels himself loose the tension he is under whenever Clint is out there without him.

"Welcome back, Agent Barton. I take it, the mission has been successful?"

"Did I mention I fucking hate fucking Christmas?"

"You may have said so, once or twice."

Clint gripes about it every December every year. He has no particularly enjoyable memories of the occasion and despises it when someone tries to convince him otherwise or worse 'make new memories'. That was actually the first ever mostly private and not mission-relevant piece of information about himself that Clint had shared voluntarily.  
Coulson walks over and settles on the arm of the couch, within reach of Barton, but definitely not touching him. He is always very aware of the distance between their two bodies.

"Report?" Coulson prompts Barton gently - even when he's not his primary handler or commanding officer on a mission, Coulson still gets a rough outline about what went down.

"Mission went down in Nuernberg, Germany. There's a huge-ass Christmas fair there. Mission's mark was tailing and taking in a suspected member of a terrorist cell. Myself was installed on the Saint whoever-dude church--"

"Saint Sebaldus." Coulson has been in Nuernberg a few years ago. It was the middle of summer and the square in front of the church was filled with green plastic rabbit sculptures as part of an art installation.

"--right, so I sat up there as back-up. The place was fucking crowded and I had to look at all the kitschy Christmas shit for hours. Didn't need to take a shot; Mission successful. Also: Germany: not a place with proper winter-weather. Icy drizzle all the way. I still feel cold."

Barton slumps down further and closes his eyes. "Fuckin Christmas", he mumbles again and neither says anything anymore for a few moments.

“What are the SHIELD regulations on fraternization in-office?”

Coulson very nearly flinches.

“How often do I have to tell you to read the handbook, Agent Barton?”

“What, is there an Avengers addendum already?”

“Well, no. Point in your favour.”

“So?”

Coulson takes a controlled breath. This may very quickly become thin ice for him.

“There are none, really. As long as things don’t interfere with work or there is reason to suspect abuse of position, you are free to get together with whomever you want.”

“How come you know those regs so well?”

“Fury changed them because of me--because of one of my cases, quite a while ago. Why do you ask though? Did Agent Martinez make an impression?”

“...No. God no.”

Barton doesn’t talk or move anymore after that. Just when Coulson starts to get up to get back to work and let Barton have a nap if he wanted to, the latter opens his eyes again and starts to dig around in the cargo pocket on the side of his pants.

"Got your paperwork already."

Barton takes out a set of papers, folded twice and more wrinkled than official paperwork should probably be. He pushes them at Coulson, gets up from the couch and stretches.

"I'm fucking jet-lagged. I'll head off to the Tower to either soak in the hot tub or sleep for the next week."

Coulson nods his goodbye, a bit surprised about the sudden departure, but when he's cold and jet-lagged, Barton is rarely a social animal - even less than on a good day. That he has taken so well to the steady company of the Avengers is a blessing in itself.  
Coulson unfolds the papers in his hand. A piece of paper falls out and flutters to the ground.

It's a black and purple invitation, wrinkled and looking like it got wet once at one corner.

When Coulson picks it up, the material is still warm from being in Barton's pocket.  
Coulson looks at it thoughtfully, his thumb rubbing unconsciously over the "Plus One" next to "Clint Barton". After a moment, he puts it down on his desk and reaches for the phone.

***

Christmas arrives. On Christmas Eve, the Avengers Tower is unusually empty: Thor and Tony are both out to visit their girlfriends' families. Steve is on his "appointment", that he won't tell anyone about. Natasha and Clint are both at SHIELD Headquarter, playing card with the other agents on shift, definitely no talk about families. They don't see Coulson, who is on vacation over the holidays, as usual.

Christmas Day is more crowded, but none of them really feel like celebrating. Tony versus Pepper's family went as well as could be expected. Steve's mysterious appointment was a Christmas celebration at an old people's home - at Peggy's. He doesn't really share anything about it, but she's very old by now and frail in mind and body. Steve hides on his floor most of the day.

The second day of Christmas sees all Avengers back at the Tower at least. Tony has JARVIS remind everyone of the party in the evening and to "Goddamn it, dress up at least a little, Barton, you will not turn up at this event in that abominable hoodie." They spend most of the day, lounging around and playing games.

A small army of caterers takes over Tony's floor in the late afternoon, delivering far more food than expected. After they leave, the Avengers gather in the dining room, to survey the gigantic table and the multitude of dishes that have been set up.

"Well, Stark, no one can accuse you of being a cheapskate when it comes to Christmas dinners."

Clint lifts the cover off one of the dishes and peers underneath. Upon finding bacon wrapped dates, he steals one and pops it into his mouth.

Tony scratches his beard.

"Still, even for me, that seems excessive. Particularly with chairs - none of us will ever need more than one. Ergo, wow, you people invited a lot of family, which - in the light of my recent experiences with Pepper's people: not a good idea."

"Yeah, not me. I'm an orphan and I would definitely not invited my brother, even if he were still alive." Clint says offhandedly and peers under another cover. "Ewww, sprouts."

"Clint, stop poaching, please. this should be a communal feast. And I didn't invite any family  
either, obviously." Steve says, shrugging slightly.

The others slowly nod at that and one after the other admit to not inviting any family. For Natasha, becoming a spy as a little girl didn't allow any contact anymore and now, they are long gone. Tony's situation is public knowledge. Bruce was raised by his aunt after a family tragedy he doesn't want to elaborate, not on Christmas. Thor's family is in Asgard, although they would surely appreciate the feast. No one mentions Loki and how they would really not appreciate him visiting.

"I did, however ..." Thor says, pulling Jane closer to him with his arm around her shoulders,  
"...invite our shield-brother, the Son of Coul. I think him worthy enough an ally to be considered equal to my blood."

"Ah." Bruce says, as an awkward silence falls over the group, "That, I did, too."

"Okay, so, plus one Agent maybe. But even he doesn't eat for a dozen people. Or need as many chairs." Tony says.

Pepper, who has been fiddling with her phone in the background for the last few minutes, leans forward now and pecks Tony on the cheek.

"Tony, stop fixating on the chairs. Phil says he's running a bit late, but the others should arrive any minute."

"What others? Pepper, who the hell-?" Tony begins, but is interrupted by JARVIS.

"Sir, the other guests are about to arrive in the main living room. Perhaps you wish to go and  
greet them?"

"Damn sure I wish to, JARVIS."

The whole group troops over into the lounge and right on time, too, because the elevator dings his arrival. The doors slide open: the first ones to come out are two large dogs, closely followed by three children and more serenely by an elderly couple.  
There is a lot of noise, suddenly.  
The dogs race around, barking, jump up people and sniff everywhere. Two of the kids are obviously super-excited to meet the Avengers and keep saying so while they shake everybody's hands and babble about Iron Man being “sooo cool, we talk about you in physics sometimes, and the Hulk is mega-awesome!!"  
They ask to touch Cap's shield and Clint to teach them how to shoot and shake everyone's hands a second time and are generally overwhelming. The third child is a small boy, who sidles up to Natasha very slowly, stares at her for a moment and then says, around the thump lodged in his mouth: "You're my favorite."

The elevator dings again and this time, a bunch of adults emerge. They reign in children and  
animals and after a few busy minutes, two groups stand in the living room, facing each other.  
On the one side, the Avengers, on the other:

"Right, wow, uhm, don't want to be impolite here, but who the fu--"

"FUDGE" (Steve now)

"--are you? And how did you get in?", Tony demands.

One of the women raises a handful of cards. "We were invited, so we came. Hang on, we had this sorted out..." She starts to hand out envelopes to people in the group:

"Mum and Dad, you got Mr. Stark's invite. I have Captain America - wheee, by the way, sorry - Olaf, you and the kids are-- JARVIS plus Bots, Melinda gets Dr. Banner's, Ms. Romanov's goes to Jane and Mozart and Strauss run under Thor - sorry about that."

"And I have Barton's." Coulson says from the back as he emerges from the elevator, smiling.  
"Avengers - my family; guys - these are Doctor Jane Foster, Pepper Potts and hanger-ons. Sorry for the delay, I had to pick up your presents from Fury."

Pepper steps forward and greets Coulson with a quick hug.

"No problem, Phil! Just leave everything under the tree and welcome to you all! It's lovely to finally meet you. I suggest we take this over to dinner, maybe? Then you can tell as all about yourselves."

Between Coulson and Pepper, no one stands a chance. With gentle force, they herd everyone to the dining room - apparently they have even worked out a seating arrangement beforehand, which mixes Avengers and Coulsons. Even the dogs have their place close to Thor, who seems to be able to talk with them via Allspeak and is not in the least offended that his invitation was used to bring in the pets. Quickly enough, multiple conversations have started around the table while they all enjoy the elaborate dinner.

As it turns out, Coulson's parents James and Mary are originally from Switzerland, but came to the US decades ago for a holiday and decided to move over permanently.  
Lucy, Coulson's older sister and the mother of two of the kids, apparently is an even bigger Captain America fan than Coulson ever was and piles questions over questions on Steve over the course of the evening. Lucy's husband Olaf is a historian from Norway and fascinated by Thor's (real) version of the myths. Poor Tony is bracketed by their children at the table, both of whom apparently are engineering and robotics enthusiasts. They want to know ALL the things about the suit and JARVIS and the bots.

Coulson's youngest sister Melinda is an art-curator in Washington and recently divorced. Her son, Billy, just turned four and is Natasha's biggest fan. she seems unsure how to handle the child at first, but warms up to him quickly enough, mostly because he is not intimidated in the least.

Jane, Coulson's third sister, is an animal trainer. She is a bit shy at first, but once she realizes it's Clint aka. Hawkeye who's sitting next to her, she starts to question him about the Circus. Not about his past or the people he knew then or any of the other bad parts, but about the animals they kept and their training. At one point, Clint turns to Coulson, who sits on his other side:

"Shouldn't my time at the circus be classified?", but Coulson just blinks at him, innocence personified.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Sprouts?"

***

After dinner, everyone moves over into the living room. JARVIS has organized the bots to bring large pillows and heaps of blankets, so that everyone can settle down comfortably. Tony's living room may be extremely modern and stylish, but has a decided lack of couches.

Apparently Coulson has not only brought his whole family, but also presents for all of them, even Pepper and Jane. First though, he hands out small identical boxes to each Avenger.

"The new action figure merchandise. Fury sends his best wishes by the way. And the cookies are from Sitwell."

After that, the kids are assigned to hand out the other presents: a chalk-bag and special shoes for free-climbing for Natasha, a year-long subscription to all the plays on Broadway for Steve, spices from India for Bruce. Thor gets the ugliest knitted hat - Maria Hill knits in her free time, Coulson explains, and the hat is modeled after Jayne's from Firefly, a mighty warrior.

"A man walks down the street in that hat, people know he's not afraid of anything.", Tony supplies.

Thor is very pleased.

For Jane, there is a heated travel mug and chopsticks with a spoon and a fork on the other end, respectively - perfect equipment for a field astrophysicist..  
Pepper gets a memory-stick - when they plug it into a quickly fetched laptop, the files present the new design for a special character in an Avengers-based online RPG: RESCUE, a female version of the Iron Man suit.  
For Tony, Coulson found a little tin wind-up robot that can walk around. As simple as the toy is, Tony is fascinated by the delicate mechanism and the simple joy of watching it clatter around..  
Clint is the last one to get his present: a small plush hawk and a special outdoor mp3-player with pre-loaded anti-Christmas songs.

"We don't have anything for you, though." Natasha says into the chaos of everyone chatting and comparing gifts. Coulson smiles.

"I got myself the complete works of Calvin and Hobbes from you. It was a lovely present, thanks. I really feel a bond with Calvin's dad."

At some point, JARVIS chimes in to announce that hot chocolate, spiced wine, Grog and Eggnog are set up in the kitchen and now ready to be consumed. Additionally, "Rise of the Guardians" has been cued on the screen one room over, if the children are interested. The children are. Thor, Olaf, Mozart and Strauss are, too. The others settle down again to chat and enjoy the evening.

***

Clint is leaning against the railing outside on the round walkway along the Tower, where Thor fought Loki and next to the disassembling line for the Iron Man suit. It's still cold and smells like it will snow later, but for now, the night is clear and bright and the sounds from the city below are far away enough to just be background noise. For a moment the sounds from the party inside get louder and then quieter again, as someone steps through the door. Coulson comes up to him, carrying a mug of cacao or something and gives him a slight smile.

"Mind if I join you?"

Clint gives a small wave.

"It's a free country."

"I'm not so sure about that..."

Clint grins at the exchange, because it's one of their many inside jokes after working together for years. People always think that him and Coulson have to be great patriots to do their job, but the truth is that they both have far more complex opinions about crown and country than YayAmurricaFREEDOM.

They are quiet for a while and every now and then Coulson takes a sip from his mug. Clint sneezes.

"Bless you."

"Thanks. Shouldn't you be saying Gesundheit? What with Switzerland and all that?"

Coulson rolls his eyes.

"I'll never hear the end of that, will I?"

Clint just grins at him and waggles his eyebrows. Coulson's ancestors being from the country of cheese, banks and clockwork will never grow old.  
Coulson gives a small shake of his head and takes another sip from his cacao before he turns to face Clint fully.

"What about that love interest of yours? I'd thought you'd invite... her? him?..."

"Him."

"...invite him instead of your old boss."

Clint clears his throat.

"But then you wouldn't have a full set of Avengers Christmas Invitations."

"True." Coulson nods like that is a valid point. Maybe Clint got away. He didn't.

"Don't deflect though."

Clint ducks his head and smiles slightly. That's Coulson alright. He turns to look back at the city and scratches at the frost on the railing while he sorts through his possibilities. In the end, he sighs and says quietly:

"Wasn't sure if it would be well received."

"You won't know until you try" Coulson says equally quietly.

Clint huffs, but doesn't say anything for a moment and neither does Coulson. Clint doesn't want to spoil Coulson's Christmas with his melancholy, although it feels like one of the very few and rare moments when they don't meet as Agent and Handler or as Barton and Coulson. Might as well rip the band-aid straight off.

"What's with Claudia though? Your cellist? Didn't she want to come?"

"Ah." Coulson swallows a sip of cacao before he continues.

"We have broken up for good this time, I think. It's for the better really - and probably been a long time coming..."

Clint raises his eyebrows.

"I thought you were back together after Tony flew you over to Portland to see her. Then again, it's true, you haven't talked about her for a while. What happened?"

"Oh, uhm, I..." Coulson clears his throat. If Clint didn't know better, he'd say the agent is blushing.

"I may or may not have called her the wrong name. In bed."

"No!" Clint laughs out loud.

"That's fucking fantastic – unflappable Coulson and you fuck up that bad... What did you call her?"

"...Clint."

"Man, no, you can not get out of this one." Clint is still chuckling. "Seriously, Coulson, who were you thinking of?"

He looks at Coulson, eyes shining with glee and a broad grin on his face. Coulson's expression makes the grin drop straight off. There's a wry twist to his lips and he looks faintly embarrassed and unsure, and sort of ... braced. Clint stares at him. Then it clicks.  
It must show on his face, because Coulson sort of half-shrugs-half-nods. A million thoughts run through Clint's brain while everything else seems to have screeched to a halt.

He thinks of sharing food on ops and long discussions via com. Of being brought in when he had lost every way out of his misery. Of avenging Phil and playing scrabble for hours in the hospital. Of following Phil's orders against his better judgment and fighting over Natasha's life. Of fraternization rules and 'Fury changed them because of me'. Of his crumpled version of the Christmas invitation being the one that let Phil into the tower.

"I wish to kiss you. Can I-- please?" Clint stutters, suddenly shy too.

Coulson, no, Phil nods and sets his cup down on one of the snowed-in flowerpots. Clint reaches for the man, his fingers stroking over the soft material of Phil's pullover, up to his neck and the warm skin there. Phil's hands are lightly gripping Clint's hips and slowly, they drift together. For this first time they kiss, very carefully.  
They part again after a while and rest their foreheads together.

"Your nose is cold." Phil murmurs.

"I don't want to go back in yet. Tony will mock us."

"Pepper is on my side, though, just let him try and marvel."

Clint smiles.

"How much of all this did you plan? Honestly?"

"Not much really. You guys just kept dropping off your invites with me. I’ve read the files and was paying enough attention to just count, so I knew this might be a bleak event if nobody made an intervention. Pepper caught on, too, so we set up the JARVIS-invite to make sure we had enough plus-ones."

"I like that you used mine to get in. I knew you would be with your family, but who else would I--"

Phil leans forward to kiss Clint again.

"You are family to me. You are all family to me. If no one had invited me, I would’ve asked to come. You're cold though. Let's go back inside?"

Clint nods reluctantly and they walk back to the balcony door close together, arms and fingers brushing with every step.

Once back inside, they get dragged into the ongoing shenanigans immediately and barely even have time to talk to each other again before the night ends.

Finally though, things wrap up and the collected Coulsons leave, in their wake the utterly exhausted Avengers.

"Wow. With that family as his background, no wonder Coulson is calm in the face of anything.", Tony groans. He has about a dozen little braids in his hair, with attached Christmas lights connected to the arc reactor It makes him look like a demented Christmas-tree.  
Clint drops down on the couch and picks up his plush-hawk. He misses Phil already, the longing even worse now than before tonight.

The elevator dings. Again.  
The doors slide open.

"Phil, no." Lucy pushes Phil out hard enough to make him stumble down the two steps.

"You are not leaving with us, you coward. I saw you Phil Coulson."

She pushes him over and down on the couch, right next to Clint, and pokes Phil in the chest.

"Stay."

"But..."

"No but. There's five grown men in this household, surely someone can lend you a fresh shirt tomorrow. I will not put up with your pining after you actually managed to get your shit together."

Lucy points a menacing finger at Phil again and he gives in, sits back.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"You do that. Have a good night, again, everyone."

She waves at the assembled heroes (Jane is snoring in one of the armchairs already) and leaves for the second time.

Phil clears his throat and reaches over to pet Clint's plush hawk.

"Right. So I'm staying, apparently."

Clint can see the slight blush on the other man's face and the smile that's playing around his lips. He can barely contain his own happy grin.  
Tony stares at them before he leans back to lay down his head in Pepper's lap.

"Damn right you are. Barton's bed is ridiculously fantastic by the way, because I picked it out, and JARVIS will lock ALL the doors if you try to go and sleep somewhere else. Plus another thing, Agent: next time you bring over extended family, warn a guy. That was far more people than I ever expected. But in a good way."


End file.
